


House on the Hill

by Sortakinkie (Sorka42)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Conditioning, Dark Fantasy, Drugged Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Incest, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Bondage, Parent/Child Incest, Possessed John Winchester, Possession, Sex Toys, Sexual Coercion, Stockholm Syndrome, Transformation, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 22:18:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12220086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorka42/pseuds/Sortakinkie
Summary: A hunt in a haunted house becomes more than either John or Dean bargained for. Dark fantasies that should never see the light of day are exposed and used against both of them.





	House on the Hill

**Author's Note:**

> Another kink meme prompt. Seriously this is getting out of hand. 
> 
> Dark and creepy events with a weirdly positive outcome.
> 
> If you want to read the prompt it is in the end of story notes

John looked at the old building, it was three stories tall and had most of the windows boarded up. It reminded him of the house from the old black and white series The Addams Family. This stark appearance was made more pronounced with the fresh coating of snow over everything. The hall of records had been sketchy about the history of the house, only that it had been abandoned for the last five years and everyone that had tried to do any sort of renovation had been driven away. The last couple that had bought the property were so traumatized by their experiences in the house that they had divorced only a year after putting the house back up for sale.

He looked over to his oldest son Dean, who was adjusting the strap on his equipment bag. He was fresh off his nineteenth birthday and was looking to stretch his wings. John was skeptical, he knew Dean needed to prove himself capable of handling himself, but he wasn't quite ready to let his son hunt solo. 

This hunt was probably going to be a quick salt and burn, but it was never a good idea to let your guard down. With so little information on the history of the house they had decided to leave Sam with Pastor Jim.

“I was talking to the head of the historical society about the house,” Dean said casually. “There were rumors back when it was first built that the owner had some wild parties here.”

“Wild parties?” John asked as they entered through the back door. 

“Yeah, he was the town doctor but he had money and a lot of 'back east' friends,” Dean grinned. “No one in town was ever invited, only wealthy outsiders.”

“Sounds like a secret society,” John said looking around. There was old furniture cover in dust cloths everywhere. If the hunt was a bust, they might be able to pawn something valuable here. Dean pulled out his EMF meter and started searching the room. John watched dispassionately as his son scanned the room. There was no wasted movement nor did Dean mess with anything he didn't need to. Dean bent low to scan under the table, the tight jeans molded to his muscular ass. 

-So fine-

John frowned, he shook his head and turned to check the next room. The moment he stepped through the doorway the pocket door slammed closed behind him with a sharp bang. He spun in surprise, not expecting action so soon. The floor opened up underneath his feet and he fell into darkness. 

** 

Dean heard the door slam shut behind him, but he didn't have time to even try to help his father. A feather duster, of all things, hit him in the face. He felt something tug on his pants, he saw a pair of antique satin gloves crawling up his leg. 

“Holy!” He scrambled away, brushing them off. They landed on the floor and started chasing by running on their fingers. He reached into his bag and pulled out an iron crowbar. He swung low and hit one glove, sending it flying, the other glove jumped and grabbed his bag, ripping it away from his shoulder. The bag landed on a large rug that rolled itself around the bag and inch wormed its way out of the room.

Dean backed away, shocked at how strong the ghost had to be to pull that level of control. “Dad, we need to get out of here,” he shouted. His stomach dropped when there was no answer. 

He felt a sudden heat at his back, he turned and leaped away when the fireplace he had unknowingly backed into flared to life. He had to scramble out of the heavy coat he had been wearing when he realized a sleeve had caught fire. He watched as the coat crawled away from him and into the fireplace.

“That was a good coat,” Dean said angrily. “You jackass.” The heat from the fire rapidly warmed the freezing cold house, but the floorboards were still ice-cold. Something moved in his peripheral vision and he was scrambling out of the way as those same gloves came at him again. 

Dean fell face first in the next room, onto a thick shag carpet, The extremely long pile of the carpet had grabbed his feet, tangling in his shoelaces. Before he could even try to move, the carpet wrapped around his arms and legs pinning him to the floor. A pair of scissors walked into the room on its blade tips, then it rose into the air and flew straight towards him. Dean tried to raise his arms to block that he thought was a blade to his face, but it flew over his head and sliced both layers of shirts off his back in a single pass. It came back for another pass slicing up the legs of his jeans. He pulled and pulled, panic setting in. When he finally wrenched himself free or perhaps the carpet had let him go, his clothes fell off of him in tatters. 

~Very nice.~ Dean whipped around looking for the source of the voice but saw nothing.

The only thing he still wore was his amulet and his socks. He heard something like laughter as he shivered with cold. He didn't know if his breath was frosting due to the ghost or the actual temperature of the house. 

“Dad!” Dean shouted. “DAD!” The house had taken his weapons, his clothes, and his father. He was pissed. He made his way through several other rooms, trying to find any sign of his father. The cold made his hands ache and his whole body started shivering violently. 

He looked around for something, anything that might keep him from freezing to death. The memory of the fireplace was tempting, but he'd made it into an area that he hadn't been attacked in, so he was reluctant to go back, even if he was completely naked. 

He spied a wardrobe and hoped that it had something he could use. He opened the doors and regretted it instantly. A thick leather collar flew out from the depths and wrapped itself around Dean's neck tight enough to choke him. He tried to pull it off with numb fingers, but it buckled itself in place and squeezed. More leather slithered over his body like snakes, wrapping around his wrists and ankles. 

The sound of something heavy moving behind him was all the warning he had before he was grabbed. Within moments, he was pulled off his feet and backward by chains and leather. The collar around his neck tightened until he couldn't breathe. He panicked, trying to pull on his restraint until he saw spots before his eyes, his limbs grew heavy and he thrashed convulsively struggling for a sip of air. The edges of his vision grayed and just as he was about to black out the collar loosened. He gulped in air in desperate gasps. 

He didn't have the strength to struggle when he felt his body moved and adjusted into the leather swing. His hands were covered with soft leather mitts that kept him from using his fingers. He resisted when he felt someone try to manipulate his body into the straps, but the collar choked him again to the point of seeing spots, he went limp and the collar loosened again. He didn't fight when his legs were pulled apart by chains attached to leather straps at his knees, his feet were locked onto stirrups by chains connecting the cuffs on his ankles. 

~Good boy~

Dean shivered this time he wasn't sure if it was from the cold.

 

**

John woke with a headache and the feeling he couldn't breathe. His eyes flew open when he realized there was some kind of hood covering his head. Only his eyes and his nose were uncovered. He tried to call out but what noise he could make was muffled. He was sitting in a soft padded chair, his arms were held down with wide padded leather cuffs. His legs were spread wide and secured to the chair's legs. His head was held in place by heavy leather straps across his forehead and chin.

The walls were covered in thick black curtains hiding any possible features of note. The room itself was oddly warm, not freezing like the rest of the house had been. Something moved out of the corner of his eye and he saw an antique syringe fly at him and stab his arm through his shirt. The plunger depressed and John was almost immediately hit with a floating sensation that he recognized as some kind of narcotic. 

~Just relax~

A curtain parted directly in front of him and he stared in horror as he watched his nearly naked son fighting against the contents of an old wardrobe. It was clear that Dean was losing. An odd contraption made of four wooden legs and a series of chains and leather straps walked up behind him. 

John tried to cry out a warning but all that came out was a soft moan. He could only watch as the chains and leather reached out like tentacles and grabbed Dean. It was a violent struggle but it only lasted a minute, he could see his son start to weaken. Red marks forming on his neck where the collar choked the life out of him. 

John whined in denial as Dean collapsed into the grasp of the odd contraption. He honestly thought it had killed him until he saw Dean open his eyes. He was alive, but he wasn't very aware. 

~Very pretty~

He couldn't help but agree, the way Dean was hanging suspended in a self-standing sex swing, it was lewd in ways John had only seen in fetish magazines. He felt oddly detached about seeing his son that way. It must have been whatever was in the syringe. 

~Watch~

The legs of the frame started walking again. It carried Dean away from the mirror, but as it moved, the chair John was trapped in, turned. Another curtain opened several minutes later and a room with a roaring fire came into view. The walls were black and all he could see was the shape of the fireplace and his son hanging from the glittering chains. His skin a burnished copper in the light. He had more accessories to his bondage. A pair of soft leather mitts covered his hands and his feet were in stirrups 

A flask of some kind floated in the air it began to pour its contents all over Dean's body. He shivered as the thick liquid spread over his skin. A pair of thin leather gloves appeared and began to massage the oil into his flesh. Once all of his extremities were shiny with it, the frame turned so that John could watch the gloves work the oil over Dean's cock and balls, lifting them gently to work the oil into every crease between Dean's legs, down his perineum and between his ass cheeks. John flushed when one of the gloves started pressing the oil into Dean's puckered ass while the other hand worked the oil up and down Dean's hardening cock.

~so responsive~

A black drinking horn floated in the air above Dean. The sides had been carved to resemble veins and the horn tip had been carved into the shape of a penis. It lowered until the tip was just above Dean's mouth. A bottle of some dark green liquid poured into the wide part of the vessel, after a few seconds the liquid began to pour into Dean's open mouth from the small opening at the penile end. He swallowed and opened his mouth straining his neck up to reach for more. The vessel lowered until the tip touched Dean's seeking mouth, he wrapped his around the bulbous tip and started sucking. 

~Absinthe, my own recipe~

Dean drank for several long minutes, gasping as the lewd cup was taken away.

A thin rod, no wider than a finger, and dripping with oil floated into view, it lined up with Dean's hole and pushed in. Dean arched and gasped but didn't struggle. The rod pulled out then pushed back inside, deeper. The chains rattled as Dean shivered, his cock hardening further. The gloves didn't stop touching Dean's body, even as the rod fucked deeper and deeper with each thrust. 

The gloves roamed with gentle touches up and down Dean's arms and legs. Paying attention to the bottom of his feet, making him squirm. A soft brush groomed his hair with continuous strokes, and Dean made a soft sigh in response. 

~skin hunger is very useful~

John shuddered as he watched his son come apart under the ministrations of the entity. He needed to get out of this chair, he needed to get to his son.

~mine now~

Dean would not be this creature's new toy, he wouldn't let it. Dean was his. John shook his head trying to clear it. That damned voice, it was making him think things he shouldn't.

~all mine~

The rod pulled out and a box settled on the floor, it was old and covered in dust, it opened and a metal dildo floated into the air, it was twice as wide as the rod had been but not nearly as long. It pushed into Dean's ass with little resistance, thrust in a few times and then stayed inside, holding him open.

~have to stretch him, one must be careful with new toys~

John's eyes widened as over and over, a dildo was removed and a larger, thicker one was pushed into Dean's body. Dean was moaning now, but it wasn't in pain. It was a pleasurable sound, the closest John had ever heard from his son had been when he was eating a really good burger. 

~hardly the first to fill his hungry hole, but you know that don't you~

Nipple clamps appeared and tightened down on Dean's tight buds, the thin chain attaching the clamps together was gently tugged causing Dean to arch and gasp. It went on like that for a long time, Dean's cries kept getting louder until he started begging. “Please, please, please.”

~so desperate for it, so needy~

John felt himself getting hard, he tried to deny it, tried to think of anything else, but he wasn't straining in his pants. No, his cock and balls were sticking out lewdly from them, in the heat of the room and with the drugs in his system he hadn't even noticed. He closed his eyes desperate to block the reality of his son writhing in ecstasy. 

~Why so shy, John? You've watched him before. Remember, last year? You caught him with that man in the back of the bar.~ 

John remembered. 

He had gone to a bar hoping a few drinks would wash away the memory of a hunt, he'd gone to use the bathroom and walked in a burly man fucking some guy in the back stall. All he had seen at first was the tight firm ass with blue jeans down around his ankles. The guy had finished and pulled out leaving the used condom and a C-note on the floor. 

The burly guy had smirked at John and given him a wink. “The best ass in the state, I, fucking, swear. The best hundred bucks I've ever spent,” he'd said as he left. John had looked at the perfect ass and had been sorely tempted.

That was when John had seen the cowboy boots. They were Dean's favorite shoes, he'd bought them at a second-hand store, but they had never been worn. John ducked into the closest stall and locked the door when it looked like Dean was getting ready to leave. 

The bathroom door opened and a voice said. “You still offering rides?” 

“C-note and a condom or no dice,” Dean said.

“Pretty fucking steep for sloppy seconds,” the stranger replied. 

“Then the store is closed,” Dean retorted. “You don't like it, go fuck the whores down on Bleaker and First street, though I heard at least half of them have the plague.” 

“Fuck you,” the guy said. Then suddenly the john was gasping in pain. 

“Try it again and you'll be nursing a broken arm, not just a sprained one,” Dean snarled. 

The guy stumbled out of the bathroom and Dean washed his hands at the sink. He knocked on the locked stall door as he passed. “Hope you liked the show.” Then he walked out as if he hadn't just been on his knees getting fucked.

John had been haunted by that day for weeks. His dreams had been full of images of his son bending over and begging for it. He thought he had finally gotten past it.

~Look at him now, so much stronger, so much more beautiful.~

John opened his eyes and saw Dean as the entity wanted him to. His oiled skin reflecting the firelight, his toned body heaving and sighing as the entity worked his eyes glazed with need and lust. A huge glass plug slid into Deans ass and lodged there. It was bigger than anything that had been put in his body so far and yet his son's ass just seemed to suck it in.

~Now, watch closely~

The gloves petted Dean's hair as the obscene cup returned, tilting his head back Dean tried to deep throat the phallus, swallowing as the absinthe poured slowly into the cup again.

It was nearly too much for John to watch his son drink from the penis shaped vessel. Dean had nearly the entire length of the phallus into his mouth sucking and swallowing in the same rhythm that the gloves petting him.

The cup pulled away from Dean's mouth and he thrashed. “Let me, please, more.” His eyes were wild and his pupils dilated and his words were slurred. “Fuck... please, don't stop.” He cried out as the plug was pulled from his ass and he was left open and gaping. 

John started, he hadn't realized his right hand was free and he was stroking his own hard cock. 

~Want it? You can you know. Let me show you.~

John did, he wanted. He was achingly hard, ready to come just from jerking off. “Yes,” he said. A shadowy form rose up out of the floor, like smoke it looked vaguely human-shaped. It moved toward Dean running its hands along his skin, making him shiver.

The restraints seemed to melt away and John stood, feeling detached from his body. He watched as his own hand pulled a lever and the glass of the mirror pull back into the wall like a pocket door. The heat of the other room hit him like a wall and he embraced it as he stepped inside. The frame holding Dean backed away into the center of the room John followed. He stepped between the splayed legs and lined his cock with the waiting hole.

He groaned as he pushed into the warm heat, his hands gripped Dean's hips and he started fucking him. Dean's dilated eye rolled back into his head and he panted, his cock purple with blood. John fucked and fucked unable to stop. He set a brutal pace that had his balls slapping Dean's ass. 

It was better than anything he could have imagined. Even having been opened by the tools, the ass was tight and firm. He gripped the chain on the nipple clips and yanked hard, pulling a cry of pain that made the wet heat tighten even more. He fucked harder. The heat of the room taking his breath away. He smiled as the collar around Dean's neck tightened making him convulse around his cock. He pulled off Dean's cock ring and the boy came hard and promptly passed out. 

The shadow stood inches from John, watching as he kept fucking the hot tight ass, but he couldn't come, something was holding him back. He broke out into a sweat, his body trembled with effort. It no longer registered in his mind that this was Dean, his own son. It was just a hot hole that gave him pleasure. 

~are you ready to come?~

“Yes, yes,” John moaned, he was so hard, he hurt. He was going to die from this. It was the best thing he'd ever felt and it was going to kill him. He was going to die, fucking the hot body before him. 

~Let me in ~

“Fuck, yes!” John gasped. The shadow slid into his body and he was flooded with images from the past. 

_A man of means and a home full of pretty things, parties with people willing give themselves to him in exchange for lessons in the art of pleasure. He had many pretty things, but none compared to the beauty under his hands at that moment. This was a treasure of priceless worth and he had John to thank for it._

If John had bothered to show his eldest even a fraction of the affection the boy craved, the entity would never have been able to manipulate him so easily. He settled into John's bones like a well-worn pair of gloves. Their tastes were very similar, even if the man had buried his wants deep down.

It took complete control and released the hold he'd had on John's body, he finally came with a cry and buried himself deep in the welcoming heat. He looked down at the face of his son and something dark and possessive settled into his heart. Dean was his now, he wasn't going to let anyone else have him. 

** 

When Dean finally regained consciousness he was laying in a warm bed, he tried to move but his hands were tied and they were still in the leather mitts. His ass was sore, when he moved, he realized there was something inside him. His eyes flew open and he saw his father sitting in a chair watching him. He was dressed in clothing that was a lot more expensive than Dean was used to seeing on him. Gone were the jeans and flannel. Now he was wearing expensive slacks and a button-down shirt that looked like it was made of silk. 

Dean looked down at himself and saw he was in a harness of leather straps. His cock was snug inside a leather sheath. 

“Dad, what's going on?” Dean asked cautiously.

“That's a good question,” John said. “Do you remember what happened?” 

Dean flushed and then paled. “Things got crazy in that house. Where are we?” 

John smirked at him. “We're still here. This is one of the bedrooms.” 

“Dad, we need to get out of here.” Dean tugged at his bonds. “Whatever is here is more powerful than anything I've ever seen.”

“It's fine, we're perfectly safe now,” John said. “You see, we wanted you and once we had you we couldn't let you go.” 

“Dad?” Dean pulled on the restraints again. “Let me up.” 

“No,” John smiled. “John isn't alone in here anymore.” He raised his hands and spread his arms wide. “He did a good job training you to be an obedient son, now we get to make you into the little cock slut we know you are.” 

Dean stared at him, horrified when his cock twitched at the thought of being trained for sexual pleasure, but he couldn't give in to that sort of thing. He had responsibilities, he had to save his father from the thing inside him before t is too late.

“Relax, Dean,” John said. “I know what you really want, deep inside. I'm just going to give you what you've always craved.”

“You have to fight it. Cast it out-” Dean's words were choked off by the collar tightening around his neck. It released after several long seconds but he got the warning loud and clear.

“Shh.” John stood, walked over to the bed and ran a hand through Dean's hair. Dean closed his eyes at the sense memory of being rewarded with gentle petting. “It'll be alright, Dean. We're one, there is no separating us. It'll be better from now on, I'll take care of you.” 

The thing in Dean's ass started to vibrate. Dean arched in the bed unable to get away from the stimulation. 

“We went shopping while you were sleeping,” John said. “I'm very impressed by the modern inventions. Especially the remote controls.” He pulled out a small handheld device and touch a button. 

Dean cried out as the cock ring he hadn't actually realized was there started to vibrate as well. 

John made soothing noises as he continued to pet Dean, touching him all over. He poured a cup of absinthe and made Dean drink it all. Dean floated in a dreamlike state as his father took his time making him fall apart. 

What seemed like hours later, John spread Dean's legs wide, took out the toy, and fucked into his stretched ass. Dean moaned and cried out with each thrust, cumming untouched as John continued to plow into his ass.

“So beautiful,” John crooned. “Such a good boy. You're going to be amazing.” 

**

Dean couldn't call the thing that held him captive his father anymore. Because no matter what it looked and sounded like, that was not the John Winchester he knew. So he called him John in his head. His body language was completely different; looser in the shoulders, lighter in his steps even with six feet of muscle to control. 

After the first long session of sexual training, Dean found himself face down on an antique massage bed. John worked warmed oil into his skin and loosened his muscles with a skill that spoke of decades of practice.

“So, what are you?” Dean asked.

“So inquisitive,” John whispered into his ear. “I like that about you. I'll tell you all about me so there is no more need for questions.” 

Dean shivered at the tone. It was supreme confidence but not arrogance. The arrogance he could have worked with in order to manipulate whatever it was, but he wasn't sure how to handle a creature that knew it held all the cards.

“I was what some call a cambion,” John said. “A creature born of a human/Incubus mating.”

“I didn't think that was possible,” Dean replied, stiffening. 

“Typically it isn't,” John said working his muscles until he relaxed again. “But I was created out of a woman's desperate need for an heir to inherit her family's fortune. Of course, that was a long, long time ago. I've had many host bodies since then. I normally groom a new body to live in and hop in as early as possible.”

“How come you were a ghost,” Dean groaned out the question. 

“I was murdered by a jealous spouse,” John said. “My appetites tended toward married men at the time. His wife took issue with it and she killed us both.”

“So you're not immortal,” Dean said.

“Not hardly,” John chuckled. “Though I have a much longer lifespan than most humans. I look forward to seeing if it carries over.”

“You can't keep us here,” Dean said. “People will come looking.”

“I know, pet,” John kissed a trail down Dean's back. “I already called Pastor Jim to let him know the hunt was running long. I'm looking forward to seeing the world with new eyes.”

“I won't let you hurt Sam,” Dean tried again.

“Believe it or not,” John chuckled. “I find your brother very boring. He is far too, what is the saying, vanilla for my tastes.” He spread Dean's ass cheeks and blew on his hole. Dean shuddered, closing his eyes with a stuttering moan. “I've no intention of doing anything except raising the boy to adulthood. He's a very bright young man, but lacks your cleverness and your creativity.”

“Not clever enough to keep from getting caught,” Dean muttered.

“You were mine the moment you stepped into my house,” he said. “I would have simply removed 'John' from the equation if he hadn't been amicable.”

“You think it would have been that easy?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” he said simply. “I caught him in moments. He resisted of course, but once he knew he could have you, he gave in to his lust. I admit I pushed him over the edge, but he was the one with the cliff to fall off of.” He wiped his hands and slid a small toy into Dean's ass, locking it into place with the harness. “Now let's have lunch, shall we?”

Dean slowly got up from the bed, his arms and legs like noodles. He followed quietly, not resisting. The meal was nice, like a fancy dinner with pretty plates and fine cuts of meat. Dean watched dubiously as John was poured a watered down a glass of the green liquor over a large sugar cube. It had been the only alcohol he was allowed to have. Though he was also allowed water and sports drinks to keep him hydrated. 

He brought the glass to his lips and sipped it slowly, the sweet, diluted liquor went down easier than the more potent absinthe straight from the bottle. It didn't hit him as strongly with a full stomach. He felt clear-headed, but the room swam around him. 

“You'll learn to appreciate the comforts of absinthe,” John said. “It is excellent for clarity of thought.”

“What does that mean?” Dean asked. 

“I want you to focus on how to change the brake shoes on the Impala,” he said.

Dean did as he was asked. His mind sharpened on the mechanics. Suddenly it was bright and clear the only thought in his head. No extraneous thoughts only the process from beginning to end. As he came out of it, he looked at John smiling at him. “Holy gods.”

“We just have to be careful, too much can damage you,” John sipped his own glass. 

“You're drugging me,” Dean said. 

“Well of course,” John shrugged. “You'd have fought more otherwise. Clarity during sex can heighten the experience. I want you willing, eventually, you'll actively seek me out.”

Dean hunched his shoulder. “It's sick, he's my father.”

“He knows,” John said with a slow wicked smile. “And he no longer cares.” 

~

The days began to blend together as Dean fell into the training that John gave him. After a while, there was no thoughts of escape, no attempts to fight back. The one time he had tried, John had left him suspended in the swing. He'd been blindfolded with a huge plug in his ass, a gag in his mouth, and a cage over his cock for hours.

A week into their stay, Dean was ordered to the mirror room where John settled him into the padded chair and locked him in place with a gag in his mouth. Dean watched as John, dressed smartly in his best suit, was given a tour by a nervous looking real estate agent. Somehow John had made the entire place appear just as abandoned as it had looked when Dean had first entered the house. He really couldn't hear what was being said, but at the end of the tour, John shook the woman's hand.

She smiled, elated and ushered him out the front door. 

John returned hours later, looking far too satisfied.

“What did you do?” Dean asked as he was released.

“I have regained ownership of my house,” John said. “It needs some renovations, so by the time we return here, the work will be done and we can move in. No one will question it.”

“Where did you get the money for that?” Dean demanded. “We're broke most of the time.”

“Your father had a lot more money than he admitted to,” John replied. “But I did not die destitute. There is a great deal of money hidden away in my house. I simply cashed some of it in.”

Dean stared at him. “How much money did he have?”

“Between your mother's life insurance policy and inheriting her money from her parent's insurance and selling their house. Nearly a half a million dollars without the accrued interest. Trust me when I say you'll never want again.” 

“Why?” Dean demanded, suddenly furious. “Why make us stay in shitty motels and squat in abandoned houses?”

“I thought it would toughen you up for the life of a hunter,” John said. “You certainly are tough.”

“You fucker,” Dean growled. “You son of a bitch. Do you know how often I had to sell myself because I didn't have enough money to pay the rent? Do you know how often we ran out of food?” 

“We know. He wasn't exactly sane since he first started hunting,” John said. “Mad with grief, then slowly slipping further with each new horror. His only anchor was keeping you and Sam safe. But when you were old enough he left it to you to care for the important things and you know it.”

“I hate him,” Dean said.

“We know,” John said pulling Dean into his arms. “But that is all over, now that I am with you.”

Dean let himself be comforted, he inhaled the scent of the man holding him. Gone was the ever-present smell of cheap motel soap, salt, and gunpowder. Now it was an odd combination of herbal oils and male musk that was the signature smell of the entity. He didn't realize he was crying until John was kissing away his tears. 

~

The last night in the house John laid down on the large bed and Dean crawled over him willingly and slowly sank onto his huge cock. He no longer saw his father, just John, his master, his lover. He rocked down and up, riding on the absinthe clarity high. His sole focus on the giving and taking of pleasure. He sucked on John's finger as the man pushed them into his mouth.

He came hard but kept riding, until he felt John come inside him. He fell forward into John's waiting arms, and Dean sighed when they were settled down with John spooning him from behind. He didn't move when John plugged him for the night. 

John kissed the nape of his neck. “Good boy,” he whispered. 

 

**

John and Dean pulled up to the church where Pastor Jim resided and waited until the service ended before entering the church. Dean had wondered if the holy ground would repel John, but he just walked in like it was nothing. 

“Jim,” John called. 

“John! Finally,” Jim replied, looking up from his work. “I was beginning to worry.”

“The spirit was a tough one, but we managed to deal with it,” John replied. “How's Sam?” 

“He's fine,” Jim replied. “Reading some of my Latin texts, just like you wanted.” 

“Good,” John replied. “He needs to keep up his studies. Dean, go tell Sam to pack his things. We're leaving as soon as he's ready.” 

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, eyes down.

“You're too hard on them,” Jim chided gently once Dean was out of earshot. “Let Sam have a chance to be a kid once in a while.”

John glared at him. “You know why I can't.”

“He'll resent you if you keep pushing him,” Jim said. “He's already talking about getting away once he is old enough. He wants to go to college.”

John froze as the two sides of him struggling. Then the entity won as it always did and he smirked. “We'll cross that bridge when we come to it I guess.”

“That bridge is just around the bend, John,” Jim cautioned. “Don't go off the rails because you're too stubborn to hit the brakes.”

“I'll take it under advisement,” John replied. “Thank you again for looking after him.”

“It was my pleasure,” Jim said. 

Dean and Sam came out of the rectory with Sam's bags in hand. 

“Sam, I want you to ride with me for a while,” John said gesturing to his truck. “We have some things to talk about.”

Sam looked sullen but nodded, putting his bags in the back of the Impala before climbing into the truck. Dean obediently got into the Impala and followed as they pulled out onto the highway. 

“So, I wanted to talk to you,” John said. 

“Sure,” Sam said. “About what?” 

“The future,” John replied. “Pastor Jim tells me you were talking about going to college.”

“Dad, please,” Sam said. “I want to do more than just be a hunter. I want-”

“I think it's a great idea,” John said evenly. 

“I- What?” Sam gaped at his father. “Are you serious?” 

“This last job was tough,” John sighed. “It was nasty and I can honestly say that it changed my perspective on things.” Sam's eyes were wide and John didn't know if he was going to burst out laughing or not. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

“I'm good,” John replied. “Better than I have been in years. Thinking more clearly.”

“Okay, I guess that's a good thing,” Sam said slowly. “Christo.”

John chuckled. “I'm not possessed by a demon. I just think that you should have more choices than I allowed Dean. It wasn't fair to him and it isn't fair to you. So what do you think?”

“I think... I don't know what to think, Dad,” Sam said, stunned. “I had all these arguments lined up and...”

“And I just ruined it for you?” John said with a smile.

“Well, sort of,” Sam replied. 

“Tell you what?” John said. “I'm willing to set down roots for a year, let you finish high school if you can prove to me that you know how to protect yourself on your own.”

“I can do that,” Sam said. “I can totally do that.” 

 

**

Dean watched warily as Sam made the protection runes for the house they were renting. He had been practicing making the hex bags for weeks, getting the ingredients and the fabric and working on the incantation that would cement the bag's power. 

He seemed to have an affinity for magic that worried Dean, but John assured him it was simply a matter of willpower. Sam was determined to go to college and that was lending him the focus he needed. 

John had made inquiries and found a tattoo artist that was known in the hunting community and had commissioned him to give both Sam and Dean anti-possession tattoos. When the older man had sat down for his own tattoo Dean had been expecting problems, but there had been no adverse effect. If anything the two personalities seemed to meld even closer together.

By the time Sam was ready to leave for college, he was as protected from demonic creatures as you could get. They brought him to Stanford and put wards on not only his dorm but his whole quad. 

“So what are you going to do while I'm gone?” Sam asked. 

“There are a few hunts that we found on the trip here,” Dean said. “We'll check them out, then we're heading East.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You can't get much more west without going for a swim you know.”

“You take care of yourself,” Dean said. “If I have to come here and save you, I'll be pissed.”

They hugged and as they pulled back Sam asked. “Seriously, Dean, what happened in that haunted house? What made Dad change?” 

Dean had been waiting for the question for two years, he opened his mouth, to tell the truth, to tell Sam everything, but what came out was a ghost of the actual events. “Things got crazy and we got separated. I think he was scared that he was going to lose more than he was willing to part with.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. 

“He went a little crazy when Mom died,” Dean said. “The thought of losing another person he loved to a monster was too much. He called off the hunt and took some time to regroup. We went back in with a better plan and took care of the problem. He's been different ever since, more thoughtful about the hunts, more considerate of your needs.” 

“What about you?” Sam asked. “You don't have to stay with him, Dean. You can have your own life.”

Dean smirked. “I'm good, Sammy. It's better now in a lot of ways. I don't think I can leave him right now. He's still trying to find his footing.” 

“What about the thing that killed, Mom?” Sam asked. “Is he just going to give that up?” 

“It has been a long time,” Dean sighed. “Dad finally admitted the trail is cold. We'll keep a weather eye out for more information, but for now, we're going to let it rest.”

“Okay,” Sam said, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “You'll call me if you learn anything?” 

“Of course,” Dean replied. He pulled Sam into a hug and they held each other for a long time. “You watch your back.”

“You too,” Sam replied. 

**

Dean couldn't move, he was tied to a bench with his head angled on a chin rest. He breathed slowly through his nose as John fucked his mouth to the point of choking. He was blindfolded, so he couldn't be for sure that it was John, but the other man was possessive to the point of obsession. Despite the entity's many kinks, he doubted there would ever be a time when John shared him with anyone else. He wasn't hard at the moment because as much as he was very good at giving head, it wasn't one of his kinks.

“Very good, pet,” John said breathing hard. He grabbed the back of Dean's head and pushed in, down into his throat and held himself there as he came. Dean swallowed in reflex his eyes tearing as he struggled to hold his breath and wait John out. Just as he started to shake, John pulled out and stepped away. “Perfect.” He kissed the top of Dean's head. “We'll work more on your breath control later.”

He pulled off the blindfold and smiled down at him. “I have a surprise for you.” He released the strap holding Dean's head in place. 

Dean coughed and tried to say something but all that came out was a croaked. “What?”

John walked away to cloth covered object that had been sitting in the corner of the training room for days. He pulled the cover off and revealed dildo mounted on a piston. “I purchased this online a few weeks ago. Do you like it?”

“Um,” Dean swallowed hard. “Who is that for?” 

“You of course,” John rolled it behind Dean and pulled out the large plug that had been stretching his ass. He put the tip of the dildo just at Dean's entrance and after a few minutes adjusting the angle, he pressed the start button. 

Dean's eyes widened and he groaned at the relentless piston action. “Oh gods,” he moaned, his cock getting hard. 

“I have the timer set for ten minutes. You have fun now.” He walked out of the room, leaving Dean to moan and thrash as he was fucked without mercy. 

Ten minutes later it stopped and Dean was a drooling mess, breathing hard and covered in sweat. He had a puddle of cum on the floor. 

“Very nice, Dean,” John said coming back into the room. “Did you have a good time?”

“Gods, yes,” Dean said softly. “It was amazing.”

“I had fun watching you.” John pulled the machine out of the way and examined Dean's puffy red hole.  
“Perfect.” He released Dean from the bench and helped him sit up.

He half carried Dean to the bedroom and let him sink into the soft bedding. Dean had almost drifted off when he heard John said, “Next time we'll use a larger phallus.” 

Dean released a helpless moan at that. John chuckled leaving Dean to fall asleep.

 

**

John stood in front of the demon he had summoned. The cave he had chosen for this was an old abandoned mine. No one had been there in over a century. “I've been looking for you.”

“Well, John, you found me,” Azazel said. “Congratulations. What are you going to do about it? Kill me? A lot of people have tried.” 

“I'm here to negotiate,” John said. 

“Really?” Azazel frowned. He looked down at the devil's trap, it was very precise with layer upon layer of warding. “I'm impressed by your workmanship. I haven't seen some of this in hundreds of years.”

“I've been studying for a very long time,” John said. 

“So what now?” Azazel asked. “You know this won't hold me forever.”

“I want you to leave Sam alone,” John said. “You do that and you can have your other children, you won't get any interference from me.”

“That's not how this works, John,” Azazel replied. “I made them, they're mine.” 

“Maybe,” John said. “But my boy is important to me and I don't want him worrying. Don't think that I won't destroy you if you ruin his happiness.”

Azazel paused. “What are you talking about?” 

“You and your little war brought him to me, but I'm not going to lose him because of a little slap fight between heaven and hell,” John's eyes glowed with an inner light.

“What the hell?” Azazel gaped for a moment, then started to laugh. “What have you gotten yourself into Winchester?” 

“I'm not going explain,” John said. “Make up your mind, yes or no.”

“Can't do it, John,” Azazel replied. “Sammy is my favorite.”

“Then I guess we're at an impasse,” John said. 

Iron chains seemed to fall from the ceiling wrapping around the demon, holding him in place.

“What the hell is this?” Azazel demanded. 

“Like I said, I'm not letting you hurt my boy,” John said. Iron rail ties floated into the room making two solid circles of iron around the trap. He then picked up a bag of rock salt and poured a circle inside to the space between the two iron rings. “That should hold you.”

“You're dead, John,” Azazel shouted. “Do you hear me? Dead! When I get out of here I'm going to rip your lungs out through your ass!”

John gave him a wicked smile. “Maybe you will, but by the time you do, your timetable will be fucked and you'll have to start all over again.” He turned and started up the long tunnel to the one and only entrance to the cave. He kicked several support beams free and tunnel began collapsing behind him. The screams of the demon were cut off as the stones and gravel continued to fall. 

“No one hurts what is mine,” John said.

**

The Impala drove up to the access road to the house on the hill. It looked nothing like the dilapidated wreak he had first seen eight years before. The entire house had been painted, the front porch and stairs leading into the house had been restored and there was shiny, new security system with closed-circuit cameras all around the exterior of the house to detect intruders. 

Dean paused looking at it as he always did, thinking about his choices. He could run, he could just turn around and never come back. Sam's words from so many years ago about having his own life echoed in his head. The sick thing was, this John was kinder to him than his father had been since his mother's death. Despite how it started, he didn't think he was capable of walking away. 

He saw the newly constructed two-car garage had one of the doors opening. He pulled the car into the spot and climbed out as the overhead door slowly lowered to keep out the fierce winter winds. Other than certain rooms, the entire house had been renovated, a modern kitchen installed, and central heating put in. The fireplaces still worked fine, but it was nice not having to worry about the need to stoke them in the middle of the night.

He walked into the house and took off his coat. He shed his boots and his first layer of clothing. The door to the garage leading into the mudroom and from there into the kitchen. Dean found a warm meal waiting for him there. He ate slowly, letting the warmth of the house seep into his skin after the bitter cold of the outside. 

He looked up from his meal when a bottle filled with green liquid floated across the room and landed gently in front of him. He poured a shot of absinthe into the wine glass in front of him put a slotted spoon on top of the glass and placed a sugar cube on the spoon, then poured chilled water over the cube watching as it dissolved. He sipped the drink as he continued to eat, pouring a stronger mixture once he was finished with his meal. 

He made his way to the shower and stripped off his clothes. The hot water beat down on his skin washing away all the dirt and sweat from his hunting trip. By the time he was warm and clean there was a gift waiting for him. He carefully lubed his ass and slid the plug inside. 

He secured the leather harness around his body and laced the cuffs onto his wrists and ankles. He walked down the stairs to the playroom. 

The body standing next to a table that was covered in sex toys and other objects may have once been that of the man that helped bring him into the world, but there wasn't much left of that personality. Gone was the anger and madness, now John was a calm presence that exuded confidence and sexual dominance.

He also looked a lot younger, wrinkles that had started to form around his eyes had smoothed away and old scars had vanished as if they had never been. His eye color had slowly changed from brown to green and his hair turned red. 

Dean suspected that whatever was left of John Winchester would eventually fade completely, leaving only the entity to inhabit the body. It saddened him in some ways but relieves him in others. Nothing about this man reminded him of his father anymore. There were days he didn't even see him in the face before him.

“How was your hunt?” John asked. 

“It was fine,” Dean said. “The demon didn't stand a chance against the Colt. The new bullets worked just as well as the ones Colt himself made.”

“Good to hear,” John replied. “How is Sam?”

“He's happy, his new job at that law firm is keeping him busy,” Dean replied. “Both he and Jesse are fusing over the baby, Mary Deanna Winchester.”

“Does he suspect?” John asked.

“No, he thinks you died on a hunt in Tulsa,” Dean replied. “You know he was really upset about the whole demon possessed suicide story.”

“I know,” John replied. “Better that he moves on. You know that.” He leaned over and captured Dean's lips with his. Dean relaxed into the kiss and opened his mouth for John to explore him. The absinthe made Dean's head spin as they kissed and John pulled him into his arms. It was euphoric to be held and cherished, his skin soaking up the intimate contact like a sponge. 

“Are you ready?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said softly.

The wooden swing moved toward them from its place against the wall. Dean relaxed as the chains hooked onto him and lifted him off his feet. The swing walked him into a different room that was filled with candles and locked into place on the floor. 

John covered his fingers with lube and walked between Dean's legs and took out the plug. He pushed into Dean's ass with practiced ease and finger fucked him for several minutes. He pulled out and slid a polished wooden dildo into Dean's ass. It was oddly ridged and he felt every contour as it was pushed inside him. John slowly worked his way around Dean, attaching clamps to his nipples and jewelry to his body. 

When he reached Dean's head, he placed an opened gag in his mouth. It was for oral sex, to keep the jaw from closing during an extended session. Dean had used them a couple of times, but never while in the swing.

John took out a pot of body paint and used Dean's skin as a canvas, painting symbols all over his skin. It sounded like John was singing softly to himself as he worked, but that wasn't something Dean had ever noticed from him before.

John stopped painting and his words became clearer. Dean was already deep into his submissive head-space so it took him a long time to realize that he wasn't singing, he was chanting. He didn't recognize the language, other than it wasn't Latin. 

Light erupted from the floor in a circle around them and Dean became more alert. The symbols on his body began to glow as well. He felt a frisson of fear roll down his spine as John's chanting got louder. He came to stand over Dean's head the phallic drinking horn in his hand. He placed the tip in the gag's opening and pushed into Dean's mouth. He opened a tiny vial of liquid and poured it into the cup as he continued to chant. The liquid dripped into Dean's mouth a little at a time. It burned its way down his throat and he started convulsing. An eternity seemed to pass before the light exploded around them. Dean arched in his bonds and screamed as every cell in his body felt like it was on fire. 

John grabbed his head and chanted the same four words over and over until the world whited out and Dean's scream echoed in the room. 

When Dean became aware again, he was in his bed. The cuffs and collar were still on, but the marks were gone. He felt a moment of déjà vu when he saw John sitting in a chair next to the bed. 

“What was that about?” Dean asked.

“I'm sure you notice that this body now appears younger than when we merged,” John said softly.

“I had noticed,” Dean replied. 

“By my very nature I age slowly,” John said. “I was reluctant to lose you to the ravages of time.”

“What did you do to me?” 

“I found a spell,” John shrugged. “You can still die, but you will not wither with age.” 

“You 'Orlando-ed' me,” Dean said slowly. “I should never have let you watch that movie.”

“It did give me ideas,” John chuckled. “And it was certainly better than that pirate's eternal quest for eternal life.”

“That was an awesome movie,” Dean replied.

John climbed over Dean and settled between his legs. Dean was still stretched and ready for him as he pushed Dean's legs up to his chest before John entered him. He leaned down and kissed Dean's mouth, sucking on his tongue in time with his fucking. Dean's skin felt tender and new like he had shed layers of dead skin after a bad burn. Every touch made his nerves sing. He came after only a few minutes, but John continued to fuck him, stroking his cock and biting his nipples until he was hard and aching again. When he came a second time, John finished himself, coming inside Dean with a soft sigh.

“Are you angry?” John asked when he finally pulled out.

“I don't know,” Dean replied tiredly. “Ask me again in twenty years.”

 

end

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:  
> A haunted house separates John from Dean, John is trapped in a room, tied to a chair, and gagged while facing a two-way mirror. He can see Dean fighting inanimate objects. He gets attacked by an animated sex swing that ties him up so that he is suspended off the floor. As an entity starts playing with his body, reading his deepest hidden kinks and using them to its advantage. It soon had Dean a writhing, begging mess, desperate to come.
> 
> John starts getting hard watching his son be used. The entity starts messing with John's head, telling him how much Dean loves to be used. How it is just giving Dean what he really wants. That John could have him if he just stopped resisting.


End file.
